Trips to trinidad
Trip Start Feb 03, 2010
27Trip End Apr 15, 2010
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trinidad the second time was as lovely as the first time.
i had chated to some finish people the night before, discusing inguaze falls and the river boat trip up the amazon. latter the guy had joned me in the comen room to watch die hard (yipy ki ay mother fudger) and decided to go to trinidad together. we tryed to catch the 10 oclock bus but dident make it so whent looking for a place to rent a snorcal and cosequently missed the 11 oclock bus and ended up catching the 12. we did manage to by a pare of gogles each. (its funny there was once a time not long ago when the word gogles was better known than the word google.)
the bus had less viger this time round, i dident feel sick at all at the end of the ride and had only joined the bus's passangers in a recless "woop" once
we quickly made our way the the therd beach were we set camp. the waves were big and regular, seeing them brakeing on the long strip of sand streching far away across the bay i was reminded of that kind of crapy movie blue crush about the abnormaly hot serfer girls who do something to do with serfing and probebly kiss some serfa dued in the last sceen. the main caricter (namless in her blandness) is seen in this one sceen holding a hevy stone underwater and spaceman running across the sea bottom. i found a stone and proceded to try and do the same thing. in the end the waves were to strong even out, deeper off shore so i setled for sitting on the sea flore holding the stone in my lap and thought of kety from the beach looking at the coral garden.
latter the finish guy set about teaching me how to surf with your body (its not really a skill that can be taut just something you do by doing) we bobed out off shore waiting for biger waves to poke up behind closer smaller ones and bided our time. yelling back at eachother witch we had our monny on and witch were ilutions. it was fun but kind of dangures. i came away with a few bruses and a cople of scratches when one wave bufeted me into the sea flore, experenceing that rather strange sensation of not knowing witch way is up.
tridnidad is pretty remot and is basicly a few beatches with some torist indestry bildings bilt from driftwood hanging on the edges. the hostle guy said that when he lived there he had tought a lot of th people how to read and right porcagese. sweet if true (i felt that lot of what this guy said was probebly bolonie). as a place it was compleatly lawless. there were big sun umbrelas doting the shore and atop every 4 or 5 were large green branches of weed. the people underthem would smoke obvertly and harfheartedly offer to sell to passers buy.
on the ride back we talked about our burses and compered sunberns. latter getting back to the hostel we wonderd the old town and bought a coco by the sea (my favoret street drink. cheep to for 70p they stab a coconut with a pick and stick a straw in it. there normaly fresh from the freza and ice cold.)
from the jety i could see a storm comeing in and, though th eothers whent back, i wanted to see it brake. latter i would come to know that tropical storms are not all that uncomen in paraty but for now i was satified watching that little storm (and it was little probebly localised to just paraty, fluds to) i could see it huf and puf itself across the oshian, spiting sparks of lighting and letting out beltching rumbles of thunder as it went.